Open Mic Night

a night of hills
rounding o’er the surprises
at the almost intangible
we crashed
but would you look now
the sky separated
no more lenses
and look how it shines

sparkled eyes sending
flashes of truth and water
yet you stay
what a day
at the razor edge, slipped
but somehow fell up

how could you doubt
every same word
every same thought
every same hope
that I should see them too
presents your proof

I wanted to see through
the piercing eyes
the flicker I suspected
was maybe for show
mischief like a contact lay
across your iris, scratching thin
just enough to let you know
the trouble you were getting in

yes, I say so honestly
whether or not I should
but this eve you’ve proven
after everything, it’s still good

so all those hills we scrambled over
skating ice and slipping tripping
end up scorching the fruits
and giving something we can put to use

no more lenses, show the truth
look how you shine
and we will be fine
just show me all this hidden you

    

     

Finished: 6:03 a.m., Saturday, December 1st, 2007.

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Inventory

I want you to know
every one of you
that I don’t cry for you
I don’t weep
I’m not heartbroken
for nothing can break
through stone

ups and downs
everyday drama
it’s not my thing
I’d rather hide in the forest
and wait for you to find me

as it is, I look for you
outside my door
exiting my life
and wonder if you’ll be back
because I never know for sure

where did I get these thoughts?

did Einstein suffer depression?
I suppose he must have
thoughts like that from me
have pricked the plume anew
though I like the solitary company

I bend
far too much
so much so
that I don’t know
within myself
where I search
and daily toss
the dye that bleeds me

I know where we stand
each and every single one of us
and I will continue to try
to rationalize
and objectify
myself in my mind
just for you

I soared into storm clouds
higher than life
I cannot blame the messenger
but yet I can’t help
feeling tossed
like stale bread
soaking up any hint of warmth
to postpone the brittle battle
I will play by your rules
I will chisel a path
as long as you still try
and as long as I don’t fall
but I should let you know
I don’t feel your respect
not today, nor yesterday
not in the slightest
don’t you see?
I’m the doll
the smiling face which you do greet
with open arms and fleeing feet
sighing, wishing for a day
with ladders finally tossed away
so I may sit alongside you
with worries none, and fears few
the palm I’m in is over-filled
and not exactly what I willed
but choices few, this chiselled stone
is all I have to call my own

Copyright L.M. 2007.  (written a couple months ago, and again I recognize the poem isn’t very good haha).